Bright Lights
by infinite-stars-tonight
Summary: The sound of laughter, one deep and the other high-pitched, floated and entwined like silk ribbons as they dissolved into the air and dissipated into the brilliant hue of the dark blue sky in an unseen mist. And it seemed like the stars shined just a little brighter. / Of blue chairs, giggling snorts, slaps, and unforseen stupidity. The average night on a rooftop terrace. /


_Hello there! I've been toying with this idea for a "Kickin' It" one-shot in my head for quite awhile, and I figured that I had to try it out! It's pretty much a random friendship drabble between Jack and Kim. There is slight Kick if you stand on your head, and just a bit of humour. Bear with me if you find my lame jokes not humorous (well, that was a bit redundant..) :D._

_Special and ginormous thanks to my absolutely fantastic beta-reader Alexi, also known as "to-knock-on-the-sky". If any of you guys ever need a beta or advice on your stories, I highly suggest her. She's such an amazing person and an even more amazing writer at that! If you haven't checked out her fics "Carousels" and "Players of the Game" yet, you need to read them ASAP._

_This one is to you, Alexi, for putting up with all my whining, complaining, poor writing, and pointless concepts without ever breaking a sweat._

**Disclaimer: **_Kickin' It is not owned by me. Capice?_

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**BRIGHT LIGHTS**

"_Just tell me what you want, and I'll be that for you."_

_- Noah Calhoun from "The Notebook"_

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Lugging a thirty-pound recliner chair up six flights of stairs probably wasn't the smartest thing Kim Crawford had ever done. The fact was though– the cobalt mist sprinkled with bright balls of light had looked absolutely enchanting from the dojo's front window that Kim decided that she would go up to her apartment complex's rooftop and enjoy the view from sixty-feet up.

In hindsight, she probably should have left the chair. When she contemplated her situation– stuck in a stairwell with an impossibly heavy piece of plastic junk, it seemed much better to deem her mission a failure already and move on with her sometimes-dreadful life.

But she was already almost five stories up, and failure at that point was not an option. She steeled her arms against the ache and hefted the chair up another three pristine white steps now marked with dirty shoe sole indents, oddly enough in the shape of swirls with the small signature "Nike" logo, her sneakered feet trailing behind as she cursed the elevator for not having a button that went directly to the roof. She should have brought a lighter chair, or not even brought one in the first place. Unfortunately for her, you just could not abandon a large blue recliner in the middle of the staircase.

It probably was some kind of fire hazard.

So she huffed and puffed like the wolf from "Little Red Riding Hood" until she finally reached the top level obstructed by a rather dull gray door and a shiny gold plaque that read "Rooftop Access". It almost seemed to glow from her satisfaction, and a grin split across her face. She, however, had underestimated the door's ability to hold strong.

"Success," Kim muttered underneath her breath. Hefting the compressed seat underneath one arm, she gripped the chipped brass doorknob with one sweaty hand. She swore as it slipped out from her grasp the first time, and then patiently tried again. Again and again her hand slipped, until she finally realized that she had been twisting it the wrong way.

Once she and the door had finally reached an agreement, Kim stepped into the cold and windy February air, painfully aware of the recliner jamming into her armpit sharply. Taking it delicately out, she propped her elbow against the top of it and wiped the sweat forming on her forehead from the long and windy climb before starting the long and lengthy process of unfolding the mishappen, sodden piece of trash. The light breeze was refreshing after the long climb, and her hair blew back from her face and she looked in hatred at the recliner.

It was probably safe to say that she and the chair were not getting along.

"Stupid manufacturers for making this." The chair hit the floor loudly, effectively leaving dents in the aged concrete. "Stupid apartment for not having an elevator." She punctuated her point by slapping her fist down hard. "Stupid sweat glands for sweating." And even if the last part was a bit redundant and unnecessary, there was not anyone around to criticize Kim, which was just fine and dandy with her.

"I just wanted to… To take a break… For just one day, and this stupid thing has got me sweating like a pig," she muttered to herself, her breath coming out in short gasps. Searching desperately for some instructions, she pried the handrests apart with all her strength, almost to have the cheap black plastic crack. And even though the feisty blonde was indeed a first-degree black belt in karate, she knew next to nothing about anything that could not be plugged into with a charger or a touch screen. Kim tried again, and had almost gotten it set up, the fabric stretching thinly. When the chair suddenly decided in it's own mind to snap back together, it was not a pleasant sight. Along her hand inside of it, jammed inbetween on the handrests and the bottom cushion.

"-!" The next words the teen said weren't exactly moderated as she rubbed her red and sore fingers, and Kim was sure that she could already feel purple and blue bruises forming. She wiggled her nail, and in her horror, found it to have a long crack down the index finger. It was clear that she wouldn't be pointing to anything anytime soon.

"You know, there's a bar at the bottom that you pull."

The sudden voice startled Kim, and she all but jumped out of her shoes as she turned, wide eyed, to the smirking brunet that stood leaning against the doorjamb to the stairway. He was dressed in a casual black shirt paired with dark wash jeans, the aura of ease radiating quite loudly. That _goddamn _guy was just standing there, amused with that "know-it-all" smirk on his face like always.

Jack crossed over quickly and flipped it over, pulling the small metal support rod upright until it clicked into placed audibly, setting it back down firmly, all in about thirty seconds. Kim stared at the blue propped up cushions on the plastic for a moment from the floor, as if expecting it to magically fold back together in proving that he in fact did not and could not do everything. A few minutes later, when it was evident that the chair was just about as solid as stone, Kim heaved out a heavy sigh and admitted defeat.

"Well, damn."

He laughed at the blonde's sullen expression, and sat down beside her on the cold concrete, ignoring the chair. Jack shrugged to himself and awkwardly patted his friend on the shoulder as he glanced at her multi-colored rainbow hand. "Ouch. That must've hurt."

Kim smiled dryly at the dark haired boy in a mock gesture. "Ya think?"

Jack chuckled and hefted himself up. "Well, if you're going to mope, might as well do it on the chair anyways." With a heavy groan, Kim lifted herself up from the cold roof and plopped herself into her chair loudly.

"So, where are you going to sit? I am not sharing with you."

At her question, he turned away and headed towards the storage room at the other end of the roof, pulling out a small red plastic chair amidst the cob-webs and blue Styrofoam pool noodles. He looked back at Kim's awed expression. "You did know that there were chairs in here, right?"

His best friend's head dropped down, but he could hear the laughter bubbling from her throat. It rose up into loud squeals, like the sound of soft golden bells chiming together softly in pure delight, a snort sneaking past her guard. Kim clapped her hand over her mouth in horror, but was unable to smother the laughs. "I feel like- I feel like such an- such an idiot!" Kim stated in between giggles.

Jack set his seat down beside her, and plopped down heavily, the chair creasing a little under his weight, but it refused to give. "Spend more time with Jerry, you'll get used to it eventually," he teased, a grin ghosting at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back and stretched out his long legs. He propped his head in his hand, his face tipped skywards.

Kim let out a muffled shriek of disdain, the sound evident in pure rage and suppressed humour. "Don't you _dare _compare me to that hairy armpitted, half ape, over-jelled _troglodyte _of our friend."

The teen seated beside her let out a mock gasp and covered his mouth accusingly. His eyes went as round as dinner plates, the whites of his eyes dominating over the brown pupils. "Kimberly Anne-"

"Not my middle name!" The blonde sang out gaily.

"Okay then, be like that! Kimberly _Whatever _Crawford, how dare you call our best friend a cave dweller? And a _troglodyte _of that? Oh, of all the things in the world! Perhaps I should refer you to Milton for bigger words."

Kim gasped in mock horror, her mouth making a perfect "o" of fake astonishment and disbelief as she threw her hands up into the air in a dramatic gesture that spoke volumes of bad acting. "I'll have you know, Jack-" She paused, thinking for a moment. "What's your middle name again?"

The brunet opposite of her smirked. "Don't have one."

"Well, then, I'll have you know, that I wasn't the one that used the word _petrichor _or _otiose _in my English assignment, unlike someone." Kim glanced over to Jack out of the corner of her eyes, struggling to keep the smile out of her face and the laughter out of her voice. She, however, was failing the battle. Kim bit solidly into her lower lip, careful not to draw blood or accidently chomp off a piece of flesh. That would have been un-necessarily painful.

"It was an English assignment, princess." Kim rolled her eyes at the lame excuse given by the male seated next to her.

"Don't-" She interjected.

"I know, I know, no need to give me the lecture again. No calling you this, not calling you that, no calling you inferior to me, even though you _are."_

A moment passed by before there was an audible smack.

"Jeez Kim, I was joking! Besides, for that English paper, I needed those extra points anyway. You know that my mom would have killed me and gone all ballistic if I got a B as my final semester grade. She would have been running out of the house, screaming bloody murder, all because I didn't use two high-content vocabulary words in my essay. And it would have been your fault."

"Aww, _momma's boy! Momma's boy!" _Kim cooed, leaning to her side and pinching Jack's cheeks, one in each hand.

"Who are you calling Momma's boy? Eddie's not even here!"

Kim scoffed and sat back into her chair, but she still kept the mocking look on her face as she did so, "You know what I was talking about, Jack." Kim fiddled with her thumbs, and, almost as an afterthought added, "You don't need to always act so tough. Not everyone has a hero-complex."

"Whatever. Besides, why are we even fighting over who's stupider in the first place?"

The blonde sighed, and her shoulders sagged for just a moment before she perked up again, her eyes gleaming with mischeief and relief. "You're right. Clearly, you are the winner there."

"See, thanks for finally agreeing!. .. Wait a minute… Hey!"

Kim let out a snort, but she didn't attempt to cover it this time. "See, look who's talking."

_Smack._

"Hey! What was that for?" Kim rubbed her forearm tenderly, where it had gotten red from Jack's sudden punch. There were times when she felt that Jack treated her differently; softer, kinder, because she was a girl.

She wished that it was one of those times.

"That was for calling me _stupid._" He flicked her lightly against the back of her head, near the crown wear the honey streaked blonde hair parted, and even though she had barely felt it, Kim feigned a look of pain. "That one was for calling me _vain _because I wouldn't let Jerry do my hair in the dojo." Jack paused once more and poked her solidly in the nose and cheek. "And that one was for all the other times you happened to do something."

Kim formed an armadillo, her light hair covering her face, her body curled up in defensive mode against any other attack. When she spoke again, her voice was muffled and smoggy.

"Haven't you ever heard that it's not polite to hit a lady?"

"Wait, you're a lady?"

There was a momentary pause and a lapse of eerily still silence from the armadillo-huddled girl. ". . . . ."

"HEY!"

The sound of laughter, one deep and the other high-pitched, floated and entwined like silk ribbons, gilding the frost air with a touch of warmth and innocent happiness. The sounds rang out in gay tones as they floated into the air and dissipated into the brilliant hue of the dark blue sky in an unseen mist.

And it seemed like the stars shined just a little brighter.

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_And, fin! Unfortunately, this turned out woefully shorter than I'd initially hoped it would, but I am pleased with it nevertheless. I decided to cut it off there or else you guys would have killed me for all the incredibly cliché and cheesy moments I'm already imaging in my head at this very moment (well, when you read this, it won't be "at this moment"… I should just shut up, eh?), so I think I chose to end it at a good place._

_If you liked it, my name is Laine. If you didn't enjoy it, my name is.._

_Well, if you didn't enjoy it, then I have no name._

_Once again, thanks if you took the time to actually read all of that, and another thanks to my beta "to-knock-on-the-sky". If you guys have made it this far into this massive A/N, congradulations! You win a virtual red velvet rainbow cupcake._

_* Passes down tray *_

_Anyways, please review telling me what you thought of "Bright Lights". I'd love to hear your comments on what I've written so far!_

_Sleep until dawn,_

_Laine :D_


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